


collide

by Dresupi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Banter, Biting, Communication Failure, Dragons, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Sherlock Holmes, Ficlet Collection, Kissing, Lack of Communication, Late at Night, Lovers' Spat, Not all tags pertain to every chapter, One Shot Collection, Pregnancy, Random & Short, Rule 63, Sharing a Bed, Sherlock Makes Deductions, Short & Sweet, Smut, Tags May Change, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: A collection of Sherlolly short fics I've been prompted. Various ratings and subject matter.The first chapter is the table of contents.I will mark explicit shorts with an *, and relevent tags will be at the top of each chapter.





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadySolitaire83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySolitaire83/gifts).



> So basically, I've written a couple Sherlolly ficlets as prompt fills on tumblr. Some people said they'd like to see them here... so here they are. <3 
> 
> Enjoy!

1\. Table of Contents

2.   ***** '[Blackout' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466696#workskin)

3.  '[Knock on the door at two in the morning' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466720#workskin)

4.  '[Unwanted inheritance' with Rule 63!Sherlock Holmes for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466759#workskin)

5.  '[Blankets' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466822#workskin)

6.  '[Dragons' for marblesarelost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466864#workskin)

7.  '[Vampire' for thelegendarydarcylewis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/37466945#workskin)

8.  '[The Grinch' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/38961605)

9.  '[Ginger Bee Sting' for ladysolitaire83](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/40477874)

10.  '[Marmalade Whiskey Sour' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048670/chapters/40915586)


	2. *'Blackout' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, Banter

His hand reached for hers in the dark, long fingers closing around it and tugging her closer.  His lips sought hers, pressing lightly against her jaw and then cheek and finally sealing over hers.  “Is that you, Molly?” he murmured.  

She snorted loudly in laughter.  “No. It’s John.”  

He chuckled.  “John has decidedly more facial hair than you do. Not to mention that horrendous cologne he wears…I should think I would know if you were John.”  

She rolled her eyes, for no one’s benefit other than her own, since it was pitch black.  “I should certainly hope you would, before you came at me with that thing…” She slid her hand down the front of his body, palming over the rather obvious erection that was poking her in the hip.  “You have a thing for blackouts, Sherlock?”  

“I have a ‘thing’ for you, Molly Hooper…”  

“I know…” she said, giggling and slowly lowering herself to her knees.  Her hands pulled deftly at his belt.  At the zip and button of his trousers.  “And I’ve got a thing for your thing…” She tugged him from his underpants, running her tongue up the underside of his cock.  She delighted in the way he shuddered.  The way his hands groped for her head, resting on the back of it and tugging on her hair.  

“Molly…”

 


	3. 'Knock on the door at two in the morning' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night; Sherlock Makes Deductions

Sherlock had knocked on Molly’s door countless times over the course of their acquaintanceship and subsequent relationship.  Many of those times had been between the hours of midnight and six am.  But Molly usually never reciprocated.  

So, when Molly came knocking on the door to Sherlock’s flat at two in the morning, he was surprised.

Even though he deduced the reason nearly immediately.  He had just woken up, so he might have been a few seconds behind his rested deduction speed.

“Tough night at work?” he asked, opening his arms wide for her to step into.  He felt her nod against his chest.  “I’ll have Mrs. Hudson make you some tea and you can tell me all about it.”  

Molly protested, “No! Sherlock, don’t bother Mrs—“

It was just a little too late to stop his bellowing down the stairs, “MISSUS HUDSON!” 

 


	4. 'Unwanted inheritance' with Rule 63!Sherlock Holmes, for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule 63; Female Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock dropped her bags by the door, a brief look in Molly’s direction told her that her slightly strange, high-functioning sociopath of a girlfriend had already made her mind up about their weekend’s activities.  

“We’re not going, Sherlock.  I have to work.”

“I already called St. Bart’s.  You have the weekend and part of next week off for a holiday.  A much needed holiday, I might add…”  

“You only want to inspect and detect and deduce around that old house I just inherited…”  Molly rolled her eyes and folded her arms.  “I need a moment to pack if we’re going…”  

“Packed for you already, Molly. Time is of the essence.  Come now.  Chop chop.”  

“I’ll show you ‘chop chop’…” Molly muttered under her breath.  

 


	5. 'Blankets' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharing a bed; Established relationship

Molly rolled over on her side, taking most of the blankets with her.

Sherlock sighed.  This was very much the reason he gave for not sharing a bed with another human being.  Dr. Hooper was very much the blanket hog.  

Of course, this gave him the opportunity to press himself against her very lovely backside, so mental complaints aside, it was shaping up to be a lovely night regardless.  

He tucked his head down into her hair and inhaled deeply, reaching across her body and tugging some of the blankets back.  Enough to cover his arse at least.  

 


	6. 'Dragons' for marblesarelost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons; Sherlock Makes Deductions

Molly reached down, tossing a piece of meat to the tiny animal. It spit sparks, briefly singing the knee of her pants. She was going to have to do something about them. She couldn’t have a dragon living on her grandparents old farm without the neighbors noticing.

She glanced back at her companion, the person she’d brought along for help, who was currently staring from the door to the barn, his eyes glazed over like he wasn’t seeing any of this.

But he was.  She knew Sherlock. He just had to unpack everything and completely unlearn all of the knowledge he had which stated that the little creature she was feeding didn’t exist.

And as soon as he had done, he’d be able to help. She was certain of it.

Sure enough and true to form, he blinked, his eyes clearing as he came closer, holding his hand out for the bowl of raw meat in her hand. “Molly, where did you find them?”

She passed over the bowl, smiling slightly as he tossed a piece to the dragon. “They found me.”

“I see… what is their name?”

“I’ve been calling them Uther… but I don’t know if they’re a hen or a drake, so…”

He nodded, crouching down to better view Uther. “Uther suits them.”

 


	7. 'Vampire' for thelegendarydarcylewis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovers' spat; established relationship,

“You’re like a vampire, you know that?” Molly’s voice was shrill. Not panicked. So angry, then. Angry at him for  _something_.

“I’m sure I don’t know that,” Sherlock replied dryly. “I don’t recall a time where I sprouted fangs and drained some hapless fool of their lifeblood. But do enlighten me, Molly. Why am I like a vampire?”

“You suck the fun out of every conversation,” she blurted. “You certainly seem to drain my lifeforce whenever you open your great hulking mouth to spout off about one thing or another.”  His pathologist folded her arms across her middle and tucked her chin down, starting through narrowed eyes at the television screen in her flat.

“My apologies, but this show  _is_  historically inaccurate in  _many_ ways,” he countered.

“That’s not why I watch it. But thank you.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch.  "What are you thanking me for?“

"For your apologies.”

His brow knit as she scooted closer to him once more, draping his arm over her shoulders.

 


	8. 'The Grinch' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday Cocktail Prompts - The Grinch (Midori, Lemon Juice, Simple Syrup, and a maraschino cherry)

Molly wiped her forehead, unknowingly leaving a streak of flour behind as someone knocked on the front door of her flat for what felt like the fortieth time that afternoon. She’d never get her baking finished at this point. Her biscuits would barely have time to cool before the party, let alone getting them frosted.

She continued rolling out the dough, considering for just a moment, the advantages of just ignoring whoever was at the door.

But they wouldn’t be ignored, would they? They continued knocking and knocking until Molly sighed heavily, taking the rolling pin with her as she went to the door, yanking it open with a loud, shrill “WHAT?!?”

Sherlock, for his part, looked both surprised and suitably chastised. He shrunk back from the pin-wielding flour maven, even as he held out a small gift bag in front of him.

“Oh, Sherlock…” Molly exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting… well, anyone. Not with John’s holiday party later this evening…”

“I don’t know that I’ll be in attendance… parties aren’t generally my milieu… I’m not good around people, I’m told. I say the wrong thing…”

Choosing not to unpack any of what he’d just said, instead, Molly nodded towards the gift bag. “What’s that then?”

“Oh, it’s a… gift. For you.”

She handed him the pin, which he took while she dumped the contents of the small bag out into her flour-covered palm. Immediately, she regretted not at least rinsing off her hands as a medium-ish tub of hand cream tumbled out. Nice hand cream.

Very nice, in fact.

It was something she always meant to purchase for herself but forgot until her hands were red and chapped from work and she was slathering petroleum jelly onto her palms and hoping for the best.

“Sherlock…” she said softly, turning the tub over in her hand. “This is…”

“Something my mother uses, I thought you might like it as well…” he said quickly, still holding the pin in one hand as he looked anywhere but at her.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Your mum uses it? You got me something your mum also uses, so…” So he must have regifted? Was that the conclusion she was to draw from that statement?

“No, she doesn’t,” he said, shifting his weight and shaking his head. “She doesn’t use it, I simply thought you  _could_  since you often have chapped hands… I… went out looking for it especially for you… please don’t think I didn’t give the gift enough thought, I don’t know why I said that before…”

“Oh…” she said dumbly, looking down at the gift in her hand. “I’m afraid my gift for you isn’t so well thought out… it’s just… a coffee shop gift card…” Molly looked miserably at the pile of cards she’d gotten for everyone this year. Everyone had got a coffee shop gift card.

Sherlock smiled and looked down, still not at her. “It’s really fine, Molly. I wanted you to have it. I shouldn’t have waited for Christmas.” He handed her the pin and took a step back. “I can see you are busy, however… so I will take my leave. Have a wonderful time at John’s tonight. You deserve it.”

He’d taken a step back and was halfway down the hall before she stuck her head out the door again.  "Sherlock!“

He paused, turning to face her in reply.

"You don’t want a biscuit, do you?” It was a desperate plea, something to keep him there because she didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t want to give me one, do you?” he countered, a bit of a twinkle in his eye as he turned.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“Then, yes. I’ll have one,” he acquiesced, turning and striding back to her flat.

“They aren’t frosted,” she apologized as he entered her flat.

“That’s a pity. It’s a good thing they’re only a pretense, isn’t it?”

 


	9. 'Ginger Bee Sting' for ladysolitaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday Cocktail Prompts
> 
> Kissing, Biting, Banter

The clip of his teeth was sharp as he sunk them into her bottom lip.

Molly’s eyes opened wide. The languid kiss had turned a hell of a lot hotter in merely the tick of the clock. Sherlock’s eyes weren’t open, but his tongue swiftly smoothed over the area he’d bitten, a mumbled ‘sorry’ disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

_ He’s sorry? Oh, that simply will not do. _

“Sorry ‘bout what?” Molly asked, not bothering to end the kiss as she tilted her head to the side to reach him better, her hands moving up his strong chest and around the back of his neck. Into his hair.

As her nails scraped over his scalp he purred his response. “Didn’t mean to bite you. I simply was carried away.”

“How?” she asked, her voice dripping with desperation as she sought out his mouth once more.

“How…” he repeated, the words lingering on his lips the way the sharp pain from his teeth had lingered on hers.

“How do I cause you to become carried away once more? I rather liked it and it was over all too soon.”

His resulting chuckle was all too salacious. “Molly-darling, you don’t even have to try.”


	10. 'Marmalade Whiskey Sour' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday Cocktail Prompts
> 
> Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Angst, Communication Failure, Lack of Communication

Until now, the words had stuck deep in Molly’s throat. Like the coated paracetamol she’d been swallowing without water behind her desk at Bart’s when she thought no one was looking.

She wasn’t sure if it was a stress headache or something related to her condition, but all Molly knew was that from the second she’d seen the plus sign on the pregnancy test, her head had been throbbing.

Mostly when she thought about what to say to the father.

Theirs hadn’t been a sordid love affair, merely two people searching for warmth in one another that they’d failed to find in the world. It had been only once, but Molly’s doctor has assured her that once was all it took.

Sherlock was due here at noon, according to his message.  His texts tended to preface his arrival by a few minutes or so. She had enough time to leave if she so chose. But she didn’t choose.

She’d never been able to take the high road with Sherlock and now was no different. She wanted to see him, even if she was too much of a coward to tell him the truth.

When he arrived in a flurry of navy Belstaff and expensive shoes, her throat went even dryer and she wished she’d opted for a bottle of water to soothe it. At the very least, she could screw and unscrew the cap to keep from fidgeting so.

He rapped his knuckles on her office door, hunching over like he’d caught a chill or something. She could see him through the clear glass in the door, taking up most of the frame with his height.

He rapped again and she jumped to attention, suddenly realizing that there were no suspicious murders in her morgue, so there was really no reason for him to be here.

Except to see her.

She coughed slightly and went to the door, turning the handle and pulling it open. “Sherlock… there’s no--” she croaked, her voice strained from the dryness in her throat, so she paused to cough again.

His brow knit slightly and he peered down at her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m well, I just--”

“Apart from the morning sickness and the occasional headache, I mean…” He paused at the end, giving her a small amount of time to play catchup as she tried to grasp the meaning of his words.

“You know,” she said slowly, reasoning that in his infinite skills of deduction, she hadn’t hidden the pregnancy from him.

She’d been tired lately.  Sick in the evenings rather than the mornings, but every fool knew morning sickness was a misnomer, so that was nothing of consequence.  Also, the bottle of paracetamol on her desk likely clued him into her headaches.

“Of course I know,” Sherlock said slowly. “I was trying to wait for you to tell me, but I grew impatient…” He pressed his lips together for a long moment.

“The baby’s yours,” she said quickly.

His lips quirked up at the corners. He was happy to hear it. “I’d hoped, but I didn’t know for certain…” he said softly, reaching down to grasp her hand.

Her head cleared as Molly’s shoulders relaxed, her arms moving around his waist, resting her temple against his shoulder.

“And you’re… you’re keeping it? Not that I want to sway your decision one way or the other,” he asked, his arms coming round behind her back.

“I’m keeping it,” she said with a slow nod. “Dunno when I’ll get the opportunity again.” She wasn’t sure why she’d tacked on that bit at the end when everything was going so smoothly, but the words were out before she could stop them. And they were the truth. She wasn’t exactly a spring chicken anymore, this might very well be her last chance to procreate.  Even if it was with Sherlock Holmes.

The words had the worst possible effect. They made his shoulders tense up for the briefest of moments as if he’d been doused in cold water. Sherlock schooled his reaction quickly enough, his fingers began to stroke her back in the smallest of gestures. “I’m here to support you either way. I know I haven’t been the exact epitome of the sort of man who fathers a child, but I intend to do my best in that respect.” His tone wasn’t icy per se, but it certainly wasn’t warm.

It conveyed that he’d perform his duty to the fullest extent, she thought bitterly, chastising herself for taking his response in that manner, but she suspected his coolness was in response to her own. 

She wanted to say something more, something warmer but found that once again, the words were sticking in her throat.

So she just moved infinitely closer to him, closing her eyes and inhaling his scent through his clothes.


End file.
